Stories Behind Scars
by Shell-Shocked-NinjaTurtleGal
Summary: Star Wars Rebels verse! Sequel to 'Illness', but not required to read before hand! Stitches hurt, and Zeb knew it well, so he decided to distract Ezra. What better way than to ask about some of his scars? The Rebels find out a little more than they bargained for about the 'little brother' of their mismatched family.


**Hello everyone out there in Fanfiction land! In my last oneshot, 'Illness', I asked you awesome readers if you'd like a continuation to it, talking about Ezra's scars (mentioned in 'Illness'). Lots of you said you'd like to read that, so here it is! A continuation, talking about Ezra's scars! Now I have no clue how things will really be in the SW:R series, like it says in my disclaimer on my profile, I own nothing! The scar thing was something I just totally made up in my crazy head XD **

**I also mentioned before that I read 'Ezra's Gamble', and (spoiler alert!) in it Ezra formed a weird kinda friendship with the bounty hunter Bosk (Bossk? Possibly has two s'). Would anyone want to read a one or twoshot about them running into each other once again? **

**I had a reviewer (sorry that I can't remember your name, awesome reviewer person, but I'm awful with names DX) mention that sometimes Kanan seems a little too soft. For this, I have an explanation, for it wasn't an accident! I like the idea of a family sorta thing going on with the Rebel crew, and want to highlight that aspect! I see Hera as the mom, Kanan the dad, Zeb and Sabine the older siblings, Chopper the grumpy cousin and Ezra the little brother! I like to write Kanan as a slightly softer character in certain parts of my stories to show the father-son like relationship between him and Ezra!**

**I hope you all enjoy reading, and please review if you can!**

* * *

><p>Ezra wiggled about slightly, trying to get comfortable in the small crawl space he managed to get into. Metal poked out from all around, making his present job very uncomfortable. He jumped, head banging against the metal wall above him when his comlink suddenly beeped, and several colorful words left him. The teen managed to reach down, switching it to a hands-free mode.<p>

"Yeah?" He muttered, sounding rather annoyed. Hera's voice came through.

**_"Ezra, have you got the signal dampener back on?"_**

The teen grunted, grabbing blindly at a wire on his left and twisting it together with another.

"I'm working on it, Hera. Do you want me to do the job _right_, or to do it _fast_? Really, I'm trying to keep from losing an arm to some of this blastin' machine parts, if I'm not careful, I'm gonna lose an arm."

A soft laugh came through the com, and Ezra couldn't help but smile.

**_"And here I thought Chopper was always the dramatic one."_** She commented. **_"Is it alright if we get moving? You won't roll around or anything, will you?"_**

Sighing, Ezra shifted a bit, determining whether or not he'd slide around if the ship moved, then returned to working on the wires, ignoring the grease he was getting on his hands from the gears above that he kept rubbing against.

"Yeah, that's fine. I'll be down here for awhile, so just try to avoid any Imperial ships." He joked in a deadpan tone. Another laugh from Hera.

**_"Alright. How long is long?"_**

A long moment of thought, blue eyes narrowing for a second.

"Not sure. Probably anywhere from one to three hours. Depends how well these wires hold up. If any of them snap I'll have to improvise, borrow some wires from the other machines. But hey! Y'know me." The teen smirked to himself. "When it comes to winging it, no one's better than me!"

_**"Just be careful, okay?"**_

"When am I not?"

A sigh.

**_"You don't want my answer to that."_** The woman replied, then there was a click, followed by dead silence as the conection was cut.

Chuckling slightly to himself, Ezra worked on, twisting wires together and pushing loose gears back into place. Not for the first time, Ezra wished he was taller, because then he wouldn't have had to be the one to enter the tiny crawl space.

A yelp left the teen's lips as he was zapped by a frayed wire and he jerked back. A hiss then slid through his teeth when he suddenly felt the bite of sharp metal in his forearm, and he quickly pulled his arm to his chest, the metal dragging down through his arm at the movement, finally leaving his arm halfway up his upper arm. His sleeve tore clean off at the elbow, while what remained of it was now shredded apart.

For a breathless moment, Ezra was still, bright eyes narrowing as he focused on his his injury, but his eyes not turning from the wires and mechanisms above his head. The pain was awful, but not the worst he'd ever experienced, and soon something warm trickled down along the outter curve of his arm. Blood. He would recognize the sticky, heavy liquid anywhere by now.

He was frozen a second longer, judging whether there was nerve damage or not. He wriggled his fingers carefully, and slowly bent and flexed his arm. There was definite pain, but no nerve damage or anything that seemed all too serious. So, he returned to what he'd been doing. He could patch himself up later, once the signal dampener was back on.

And so, ignoring the blood trickling slowly down his arm, he grabbed the wrench at his side, attention soon fully on his job.

* * *

><p>The bridge was rather quiet, everyone aside from Ezra relaxing in their seats.<p>

"Th' kid's taking his time." Zeb muttered suddenly, seeming to become impatient.

Sabine grinned, crossing one leg over the other.

"Relax, big guy! Give poor Ezra a break, we're lucky he agreed to go in that crawl space with how small it is!"

Kanan gave them both a look.

"Either way, Ezra's going to get the dampener up and running. If it takes him awhile, then it takes him awhile." He said, giving Zeb a stern look.

The Lasat simply grunted, looking out the window, and Kanan faced back forward in the co-pilot seat.

The door to the bridge slid open with a hiss, and everyone gave a start when Chopper whistled sharply in alarm. They all turned, looking towards the door.

And there stood Ezra, his hair pulled away from his face in a very short ponytail, long bangs and Padawan braid framing his grease smeared face. His clothes were stained with oil, and a couple rips were at his shoulders and sides (the pants were lucky and only had a few stains). But what had the attention of his friends was the absence of the bottom of his right sleeve, and the bandage that Ezra held, which was already turning red, one end in his free hand as he wrapped it around his arm, the other end clenched precariously between his teeth.

He was _injured_.

Kanan and Zeb stood, while Sabine sat straighter, alarmed. her quickly switched on autopilot, worry on her face as she jumped to her feet.

Ezra froze, eyes wide in surprise when he found everyone suddenly looking at him. He stood there for a long moment, eyes darting from one face to the next, bandage still in his hand and between his teeth. Finally, he spoke, albeit muffledly.

"Whu'?"

Kanan was the first to move, striding forward quickly, making Ezra jump slightly in surprise. The older human took the bandage, unraveling it much to Ezra's irritation.

"Master! Oh, c'mon! I just got that wrapped up tight enough!"

Kanan ignored his student's protests, carefully taking the teen's wrist and pulling his arm out straight. A slight hiss of pain left Ezra, making Kanan's gaze flash to the youth's pained face, and his grip on the teen's arm loosened slightly.

Green-blue eyes turned then to the arm.

A long gash ran from a few inches above Ezra's wrist to the middle of his upper arm. Blood stained the teen's tan skin a dark red, but grease also mingled with the drying crimson. Ezra hadn't cleaned the wound at all, only grabbed a bandage in hopes to keep from smearing blood everywhere.

"What happened?" Kanan asked, narrowed eyes flickering back to his Padawan's face.

The teen looked away, still a bit irked about the bandage being undone.

"Nothing, just got in a fight with some of the metal down in the dampener." He then grinned sheepishly, gaze meeting Kanan's. "I lost."

Zeb moved over, peering at the wound with a frown, his ears lowering slightly.

"Tha' looks serious." He stated, tone shoeig rare concern. "It needs t' be cleaned. Now. B'fore it gets infected an' leaves a scar."

Ezra shrugged, carefully shaking his arm free from Kanan's grip.

"It's fine. You build up an immunity to all sorts of things on the streets of Lothal." He said. "And hey, one more scar won't make a real difference, right?"

And that was the first time Kanan remembered Ezra's multitude of scars since he'd first seen them a few weeks before. He had planned on asking the teen about them, but had forgoten...

Sighing, Kanan took hold of Ezra's shoulders, turning him back towards the door.

"C'mon, let's go get you patched up."

Sabine jumped at the chance to leave the bridge, moving to their side.

"I'll go with you guys."

"Same here." Zeb grunted, muscled arms folding over his chest. Hera glanced at Chopper.

"Chop, you're in charge of the bridge." She told the droid. Chopper warbled in understanding, rolling over to the controls.

"Wait, when did this become a family outing?!" Ezra asked bewilderedly as he was pushed out the door.

* * *

><p>Ezra sat on the medical examination table, holding his injured arm close to his chest and watching Kanan move about the room in search of some basic disinfectant. Aabine sat casually on the table across from him, Zeb leaning beside her, and Hera was shaking her head over Ezra's ripped up clothes.<p>

"I told you to be careful." She chided, giving the teen a look.

Ezra rolled his eyes.

"I _know_, Hera. I _was_." He stated (for what felt like the hundreth time). "I got a nasty shock from a wire, I couldn't help but jerk a little! I'm a victim of circumstance!"

The Twi'lek woman rolled her eyes, a fond smile pulling at her lips. Kanan, finding what he'd been looking for, moved over to the table, setting the bottle of disinfectant beside Ezra and making a gesture.

"Shirt off. I can't get that arm with the sleeve there."

Knowing by now that arguing would be useless, Ezra scowled but did as told, wincing as his arm protested violently to movement. He gingerly pulled the piece of clothing off over his head and got his arm through with minimal pain as well, the ruined top of his coveralls pooled around him on the table, revealing his scar littered torso.

Kanan and Hera grimaced, while Sabine looked away, and Zeb examined the marks of Ezra's past closely. Hera and Kanan had told them about the scars, how they'd first seen them when applying a salve to Ezra's chest when he'd been ill. Only now did the two other Rebel's see the proof with their own eyes.

Grabbing a clean cloth, Kanan poured some antiseptic on it before taking a careful hold of the Ezra's wrist with his free hand. He held it out straight, gently wiping away the crusted blood and grease stains from the teen's arm with the care usually only seen in a parent for their child. A sharp, hissing intake of air was pulled in through Ezra's gritted teeth, his eyes watering at the sensation of the disinfectant bubbling in his wound. His hands now held onto the edge of the table with a white-knuckled grip as bright blue eyes squeezed shut. His lithe form was now rigid.

Kanan grimaced, murmuring an apology under his breath, but never hesitating as he continued to clean the youth's wound. Hera took hold of his left hand, gripping it supportively. After a few deep breaths, Ezra opened his eyes, tense form slowly relaxing. His quick recovery from the pain of the antiseptic showed he had felt the sting of the liquid more than once in his fourteen years.

"This looks pretty deep." Kanan said, breaking the silence. "I'll need to stitch it up. Lucky we got pain reducers at the last trading station."

"I can do it later." Ezra replied, looking around the room, bored.

Zeb snorted, arms folding over his broad chest.

"On yourself? Not likely, kid."

Ezra gave a one-shouldered shrug, sapphire gaze turning to the Lasat.

"Why not? I've done it before. Tons of times, with and without pain-killers."

Everyone winced at that thought. Being stitched up without anything to numb the injury was painful (dangerous too, people tended to jerk around without pain-killers, which could result in worsening the injury). And to think of young Ezra stitching himself up? The thought made the crew shudder.

"No. Just...Just no." Kanan said, shaking his head. "_I'll_ stitch it up."

Ezra huffed, pouting slightly as he looked away. Once again all was quiet, and it remained like that for a short while. Only when Kanan began preparing a syringe with some pain-reducer was the silence broken, and surprisingly this was done by Zeb.

The Lasat warrior knew how uncomfortable stitches were to get, pain-killer or not, and so he took it upon himself to distract the teen. He strode forward, taking Hera's place on Ezra's left, while the Twi'lek went to sit beside Sabine. He examined the scars on the youth's chest, sides and from his new perspective he could see a few on the teen' snack even. Ezra looked at him, face blank, observant eyes shining with pure, unhindered curiosity.

"What?" The teen asked, not even flinching as the cold needle of the syringe sank into his arm.

Zeb's gaze met Ezra's for a moment before flickering back to the youngling's scar-littered torso. For a long second, his eyes examined several of the marks, before settling on one in particular: The remains of a blast wound, about four to five inches long in every direction. It rested just under his left collar bone.

The Lasat pointed at the circular scar.

"Where'd you get this one?"

Ezra looked at the scar, hesitating. He wasn't all too comfortable with the idea of sharing the stories behind his scars, but he knew Zeb well. The Lasat would wait as long as he had to for the answers he sought. Soon, the teen sighed.

"There was a protest on Lothal, and I was standing nearby when an Imperial shot a power conduit. There was an explosion, it knocked me out, and when I woke up, I had _that_." He gestured to the scar. "Considering what happened to the people standing right by that conduit...Well, I was lucky."

Zeb grimaced, but looked over the scars once more, picking out another.

"This one?" He asked, this time pointing at a long, jagged scar that started at the top of his right side and curled around to just above his middle.

"'N tha' one?"

Ezra paused for only a second to think.

"I got a job to deliver a package and ran into a gang. One had a viroblade."

Ezra looked over to Kanan, watching the man as he carefully stitched his wound, and Zeb searched for another mark with a possibly interesting story.

"This one?"

A look of dry humor flashed across Ezra's face as he looked at what Zeb pointed to. It was a large, strange looking scar, looking like what had been a severe and gigantic scrape, as though he'd been dragged across rock. It started trailed all the way up the outside of Ezra's left arm.

"I got hit by a city shuttle."

Zeb looked at him incredulously.

"You _what_?"

Ezra grinned, enjoying the looks of surprise on everyone's faces.

"I was hit by a city shuttle." He repeated. "Back on Lothal I could sometimes get some odd jobs that paid well. I was on my way to deliver a package and was crossing a main roadway and next thing I knew, I was on the road, bruised and with some nasty roadrash people were freaking out, but I was okay. I could walk and stuff, so I got up, got outta the way of traffic and finished my delivery."

Kanan sighed, resisting the urge to rub at his brow in exasperation, opting to instead work on finishing off the stitches.

"Alrigh' alrigh', one more an' I'll leave ya be." Zeb stated before pointing to the largest scar of all. "That one?"

Ezra's face was suddenly a bit pale, his smile gone.

The scar in question was long, thin and precise, stretching from next to his left abdominal down, vanishing behind the teen's pants, showing it probably ended somewhere on his leg. There were others like it in other places, clean and neat, Kanan mused, just like...

He paled when the realization hit him.

The scars were like those left by a scalpel.

Ezra, brave young Ezra, took a deep breath, turning his gaze to the ground. His left hand strayed to his middle, thin fingers feeling along the raised line of skin.

"The...When I was ten, the Empire was searching for some anti-Imperialists that had snuck into a trade ship and got to Lothal. I lived alone, people got really paranoid, so...So I was brought into an Imperial base and interrogated."

The teen pursed his lips for a moment, trying to ignore his friends' expressions, which ranged from shock, to despair, to even anger. After a long minute or so of silence, Ezra forced a smile, looking back up at his companions.

"But its fine! I was in and out within a day. Long story short, I got acquainted with an interrogation droid."

When no one replied, electric blue eyes turned to Kanan.

"You almost done?"

The man blinked, surprised, then nodded, snapping the medical thred and securing it.

"Yeah...Yeah, I'm done. No training for awhile though. If you rip the stitches you won't be allowed off the ship until you're fully healed, understand?"

Ezra grinned, nodding as he used his free hand to pull free the hair tie that held his hair away from his face.

"Got it. Thanks for letting me borrow this, by the way." He said, handing the hair tie to his mentor. The man took it with a small, strained smile.

"No problem. Now, go get some rest."

The teen hopped down from the medical table, stretching his good arm above his head.

"No arguments with that order." He said amusedly, heading towards the door. He then paused, turning back to Zeb. "Hey, next time you gotta share some of your stories too. Im not telling you any more unless you tell me one of your own. Its only fair trade, y'know?"

The Lasat smirked, crossing his arms.

"I dunno if you have more tales th'n I do, kid."

Ezra returned the smirk challengingly.

"Who said all _my_ stories scars?"

And with that, the teen disappeared through the door, leaving a deafening silence behind him.

For a minute, no one moved an inch. Not Kanan, Zeb, Hera or Sabine.

Then, with no warning, Zeb gave an angry yell, turning and slamming his large fist on the medical table beside him with a bang. The metal surface rattled, trembling for a moment under the strength that had been behind the blow. The Lasat warrior looked furious (and even _that_ was a mild term).

"Blasted Imperials!" He growled, voice low and dangerous.

The other's said nothing (why should they, when Zeb summed it all up?), and Kanan was the next to move, gathering the remaining supplies that hadn't been used and securing the items back in their proper places. His green-blue eyes, usually so sharp, were misted with thought.

He'd known his young Padawan hadn't had the best childhood, but this...?

He would have to have a talk with Ezra, he decided. _After_ the teen had gotten some sleep.

* * *

><p>Ezra looked up from the datapad he held when there was a light rapping against the metal door.<p>

"C'mon in." He called, gaze returning to his journal.

The door slid open with a hiss, and Ezra could feel his mentor's presence. The thick, plush bedroll dipped slightly to one side as Kanan sat beside him.

"Hey Master." Ezra greeted, sounding slightly distracted as his hand darted across the keyboard of the datapad.

"Hey." Kanan said, voice softer than usual. The odd tone made Ezra look up, and sapphire eyes met green-blue. The man inclined his head at Ezra's stitched up arm. "How's your arm feeling?"

Ezra shrugged, looking confused. That was why Kanan was here?

"Sore, but I've definitely felt worse." He replied casually, shutting off his journal. He set it down beside his folded legs.

Kanan grimaced at the implication that Ezra had been injured far worse before.

"I wanted to talk."

Wariness flashed through bright blue eyes.

"Usually you only say that when I did something wrong." He stated. Kanan couldn't help but laugh.

"No, no. Don't worry." He reassured. "You aren't in trouble."

Ezra relaxed, his usual, care-free smile sliding onto his lips.

"Alright, what's up then?"

For a moment, Kanan searched for the right words. Then, he finally spoke.

"About earlier. Your scars."

The teen's eyes narrowed a fraction, and he raised a brow.

"Oookkaaayyy...?" He drew out, looking confused. "What about my scars?"

Kanan blew out a sigh, resting his elbows on his knee and bending his head slightly to run a hand through his hair. Ezra waited for Kanan to organize his thoughts, the teen looking more confused by the second.

"I'm proud of you, you know that?"

Ezra blinked, straightening where he sat as he stared at the older human in alarm. Of all the things he thought his teacher might say, that wasn't one of them.

"I'm...Kinda lost here." The youth said slowly, brow furrowing. "Could you fill me in here?"

Kanan smiled slightly, casting his Padawan a humored look, but then the smile faded away, his expression growing distant.

"If anyone else went through what youve gone through...Ezra." The man turned to face him completely, face serious. "If a _Jedi_ had gone through everything you have, I'm almost _positive_ they'd turn towards the dark side. But you didn't, Ezra. You don't know how amazing, how _insane_ that is."

That didn't seem to clear anything up for Ezra. In fact, he looked even more confused than before.

"But why would they do that?" The teen asked. "I mean sure, it was hard and stuff, being all by myself when it happened, but...Isn't that just how life is supposed to work? You take the good and he bad, and-"

Kanan laughed, the sound warm and almost disbelieving but also sounding somehow grateful in a way. He reached forward, ruffling Ezra's mess of raven hair affectionately, ignoring the complaints from the teen.

"Ah, Ezra." He sighed out, smile broad. "You really are something."

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?" Ezra asked, unsure.

Kanan pulled Ezra close, so that the youth's cheek rested at his collar bone, head tucked under the man's chin. Ezra was surprised, but didn't move away (he wouldn't admit it, but he liked the friendly gestures and embraces he'd share with his friends sometimes). When his mentor didn't say anything, the teen tried to look up at his friend's face.

"Master?" A brief second of hesitance, then, "Kanan?"

The man smiled to himself. How he had managed to find such a great Padawan, such a great _friend_...That answer was beyond him.

* * *

><p><strong>So, I just have to ask: Does anyone else think Ezra would look so cool with his hair pulled back and his bangs and Padawan braid on either side of his face? XD I couldn't resist it, when the image of his hair like that popped into my head, I had to include it! If only just this once XD lol, just wanted to ask! XD <strong>


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